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>0iig 



J. ALBERT LIBBY. 

Bead on the Eve. of Oct. 25, 1880, to a large circle 

of Friends, met to celebrate the 84th birthday of his 

Father, Rev. James Libby, of Poland, Me. 



" Eternity shall never shed its leaves ; 
'Tis only summer in its groves of green : 
It knoweth not the chilliness of age. 
The forehead Avrinkles not ; the living light 
Takes on no shade ; the face is ever fair. 
The tresses blanch not, and the eye still sparkles 
Without change or end. O, well with us, 
When the undying gladness has begun ! 
It cannot come too soon." 

-~Dr. Bonar. 
PUBLISHED BY THE AUTHOE, 

W. POLAND, ME. 
1881. 






A Song of Life. 



^^HE 3'ears have A'oices not their own, 
^^' Filling the air from human lips ; 
All varied in their words and tone, 

From the wee child that lamb-like skips 
To him who treads life's farthest vero:e alone. 



■■t)^ 



Listen, O friends, awhile, if you would hear ] 

The echoes that come ringing on my ear, i 

Dropping in words, as we ma}^ briefl}^ scan ] 

The changeful stages in the life of man. | 

From bab3'hood till ten, I hear the wail ^ 

Of suffering infancy, and then the gale 
Of meny laughter and uproarous shout. 
Sounding from school-3'ard all the streets about ; : 

The gleeful scream as in a hundred plays, j 

With tireless feet, the urchin threads his wa3's. ] 

From ten to twenty, faster bounds the blood, ■ 

And mirthfulness hath reached in tide a flood ; 
'Tis talk, talk, talk, no matter where, or when, j 

Nor will the laddie wait for older men. | 

Has anything occurred, just how he shows, | 

For he was there, ej^es, ears and mouth and nose ; 
The largest fish has been upon his hook, 
And the most game his trusty rifle took ; 

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4 A SONG OF LIFE. 

Birci-snares and traps are much in A'ogue with him, 
He knows where pigeons perch and muskrats swim ; 
The horse he drives must travel, or the whip 
Tingles the tender flank below the hip. 
School-daj^s are happ}' for the stirring boy, 
Since out or indoors he will have his jo}' ; 
Through all the study hours his e^'e and ear 
Are ape-lilie set, to catch him something queer. 
One eye he has for fun, — mischievous creature ! — 
The other sentinels the moving teacher : 
And blundering readers, calling colt a calf, 
Are sure to hear all round the tittering laugh ; 
And letters on the slate, once in a while 
With pleasure cross both ways the middle aisle. 
So, through a score of singular g^yrations. 
He learns and gets through all his recitations. 

Twenty is reached, and he begins to plan, 
To have his coming future as a man ; 
His gait has settled to a sprightly walk, 
His w^ord}' fun tones down to common talk ; 
He speaks of cottages along the street. 
Admires the st3ie of this with grounds so neat, 
Wishes he had some land, and wants a team. 
Just so's to understand how it might seem, — 
Is often missed from home on Sunda}' eve, 
Now he can go and come, not asking leave. 
Time passes on, his thrift the means has sought, — 
The land is bargained for, the team is bought. 
And bolder grown, at twenty-five he'U ride 
With blushing beauty seated at his side. 
And now the ground is broke, the cellar made, 
Workmen are called, each with his difl'erent trade. 



A SONG OF LIFE. ■ 

The cottage he for man}' months has pkinned 
Stands shining, Uke a gem, upon his land. 
With eager hands he toils, and heart elate ; 
For earth is rich with spoils, and hope is great. 
And he has prospered, and must prosper still. 
His jo^'ous heart now sings, with right good will. 
Rejoice 3'oung man ; these are th}' brightest daj's ; 
I'll find ihee, by and b}', in different wa3-s. 

There are no sunnier jo^'s in earthl}" store. 

Than when one finds at first his own home's door ; 

And lights his dwelling to look into e3'es 

That answer back to his, with love's surprise. 

How white the cloth she spreads, how choice the food 

How sweet the song she sings, in cheerful mood ; 

How rankl}' grow the plants her hands attend ; 

How bright the flowers that far their fragrance send 1 

Home has no shadow now — her smile the ray 

That lights each room, through the long golden da}'. 

But years will fleet, and in a world like this 

We may not hope for long continued bliss : 

This one bright home we watch, to speak for all, 

Where jo3'S and griefs alternate rise and fall. 

Children are born and thrive — ah, what a J03' ! 

The curly headed girl, the bright e3^ed bo3' : 

Parents alone know what heart pleasures wake. 

As to their arms their own sweet babes thev take. 

New voices ring around the hearth of home. 

As one b3^ one the beauteous darlings come. 

The cradle hath a music all its own, — 

Although it runs in a low monotone. 

The high chair at the table hath a guest 

On which the e3'es of all around it feast ; 



6 A SONG OF LIFE. 

The room is cluttered, and all things look loose ; 
But ''■ baby did it,'' and we must excuse. 
O, beauteous bush ! the midst with roses crowned. 
And buds of promise opening all around. 

But we have said that, in a world like this, 

We cannot hope for long continued bliss : 

The spoiler comes, and, with unpit3ing tone, . 

Threatens to take one darling for his own. 

^ ' What ! rob my household ; tear m}' sweet rose-tree ? 

And bear a blushing bud awa3^ from me? " — 

The mother cries : then takes her treasure up, 

Bids fear begone, and calls for cheerful hope ; 

Smoothes the fair forehead, smiles by turns, and grieves, 

Binds up the feet and wrists with drawing leaves ; 

Bathes the hot temples, — kissing oft the cheek, — 

Chafes the round limbs, and calls for him to speak. 

Darkens the room, hushes all playful feet. 

And b}' the crib fixes her watching seat ; 

" Sa}^, mother's jewel ! is 3'ou better now? 

Take this for mamma, — make old sickness go ! " 

Whispers to father, as he creeps along, 

' • I think we'll save him ; see ! his pulse is strong." 

O, troubled household ! grief has come at last, — 

The days without a cloud are in the past ; 

The nights of unmolested rest are fled, — 

Now stands unsought the anxious parents' bed : 

And 3'et the3^ tire not, for love forgets 

To eat or sleep, if watching suffering pets : 

And so the ,da3^s go b3", and night's slow hours, 

As if the foe to strong resistance cowers ; 

Till, all at once, while hope contends with doubt, 

He from the darkness blows the sweet life out. 



A SONG OF LIFE. 

I need not try to picture with my pen 
The agony of the bereft ones then ; 
The talk of mother, o'er the white dead face, — 
The sighs of father, with each faltering pace ; 
Nor yet the sobs of childhood's heaving breath, — 
Till now but strangers to the stranger, Death. 
The gi-ave door swings and shuts, and oh, what joy 
Goes into darkness with that bimed bo}^ I — 
And earth to them, so long without a blot. 
Seems sadly marred by this one burying spot. 
Sometimes they tell the mourner that, no doubt, 
A little while will wear these troubles out ; 
But he who writes these lines for 3'ou will say, 
The wounds may heal, but jet the scars will sta}^ : 
And they who fondl}^ o'er their dead do weep 
Will not forget forever where the}^ sleep. 
Well, but few parents say at forty-five, 
"We have no graves — the flock is all alive." 
The King of Terrors, since the world's great fall, 
Hathf fought the race to make us mourners all ; 
But " sorrow not as those who have no hope," 
The preacher said, — and this becomes a prop. 
So months go by and the old smile appears, 
And crowding cares beguile th' advancing 3^ears ; 
The marriage-bells resound, and voices sweet 
Allm-e away from home the children's feet ; 
And other sadder farewell words are said, 
As earth's green curtain swings o'er others' dead ; 
Till wrinkled womanhood and failing man 
Are left alone, as the}^ alone began. 

And 3^et how different life's pathway seems, — 
At first their future shone with golden dreams, 



8 A SONG OF LIFE. 

That each new j^ear would better things unfold 
Than they had shared in the receding old ; 
But now life's rounded hill-top lies behind, 
The ears grow heavy and the e^'es get blind ; 
The feet that strongl}^ struck the sunn}' crest. 
Now feeblj^ falter near the vale of rest. 

Come in the evening, find them all alone ; 

And, hidden, listen to their voices' tone. 

Hear them go back to memor3''s earliest days, 

And tallv along thi'ough time's eventful ways. 

Now smiles enrich then* faces ; then, anon, 

We watch a moment and the smiles are gone. 

A change comes in life's stor}^, — bend thee nigh ; 

See ! tears are glistening in each withered eye ; 

They speak of faces fair and voices ga}' 

That from the family- fold were snatched awa^' ; 

Of dear old neighbors that once left the door. 

Saying "Good evening," — to return no more. 

And then to hear them sing,— it soundeth well, — 

The hymn " When strangers stand and hear me tell." 

And, changing, strike again so clear and high 

The tune — " Spare us, O Lord, aloud we cr}^ ;" 

And so we creep awaj-, sajing, at last, 

" Dear aged ones ! they live along the past." 

Yes, the}^ do live recounting what has been ; 

But faith hath eyes to scan a future scene, 

And hope will follow faith with eager wings. 

To knit love's tendrils to celestial things. 

And so thej wait upon the mortal side 

Of death's col'd' river, with its murky tide ; 

KnoAv^ing their Joshua .will lift His rod 

To break a pathway through the swelling flood. 



A SONG OF LIFE. 

Aud, what if one be left alone to stand, 
Trembling with age, and white-haixed on the sand? 
Take heart at this, — the pilgrimage once o'er, 
What joys await ns on the other shore ! 

What verdant trees shall grow on all the hills ; 
AVhat sparkling waters flow in all the rills ! 
What gladsome shouts on Zion's mount shall ring 
To David's greater Son and Israel's King ! 
What tides of health in every vein shall flow ; 
For every cheek and eye will be aglow ! 
What stores of plenty ! — see the fruitage shine 
On low depending limbs and climbing vine ! 
AYhat rapturous songs ! no earthly choir hath known 
The art to reach and touch the lowest tone ! 
What bonds of friendship ! never there a jar 
The union of the saintly ones may niar ! 
What more than glad surprises there to find 
Many on life's rough march we left behind ! 
O resurrection faces ! how they shine, 
Filled with the lustre of a life divine ! 
Yet through the glow the old-time smile appears. 
Linking the eternal now with earthly years. 
What perfect rest beyond time's tiresome road ! 
What sweet release from every wearying load ! 
What boundless riches ! — every saint supplied ; 
What depths of joy, with every tear-drop dried ! 
What wondrous wealth of wisdom ! — all shall know 
And fear the Lord, the shining heavens below ! 
What length of golden days there ! — o'er and o'er 
The ransomed sing, in throngs, " to die no more ! " 
What restful peace where no discordant sound 
Disturbs through all the enchanted world around ! 



10 A SONG OF LIFE. 

What love where heart with kindred heart shall blend, 

With every soul we meet a constant friend ! 

What golden walks, what ever-fragrant flowers ! 

What happy talks in Eden's shady bowers ! 

What streets of gold, what gates, what strengthful walls ! 

What matchless towers arise, what spacious haUs ! 

What skies, — all storm-clouds now are swept away ; 

As fair they shine as at creation's day ! 

What hosts of angels passing to and fro ; 

In easy gliding speed, behold them go ! 

And all the saints, theii- equals, move at pleasure, 

Having no wearying distance nOw to measure. 

Glory to God ! through his all-conquering Son 

Death dies at last, and Sin's dark reign is done ! 

With so much for us, why parade the charms 
Of this poor state, with all its rude alarms? 
Let us make haste, since we so far have come ; 
That morn shines on us from the hills of home. 




W. Kellaway, Book Printer, 194 Washington St., Boston. 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 




015 762 498 2 



